Forgive Our Sins
by neverforgetme12
Summary: What if Scott had bitten Stiles to save his life in episode 3x24? What if Stiles was a werewolf? #Stydia, angst and werewolf!stiles
1. Chapter 1: The Bite

**_Hello my lovelies! Let me first say that I did not intend on writing a multiple chapter Werewolf!Stiles. This story took on a life of it's own and I'm not really surprised. If you've read my other stories you know how much I love angst and ongoing drama lol. _**

**_That being said, I would appreciate if you all wouldn't mind writing a review and telling me what you think thus far! I want to continue writing it but only if people are interested._**

**_Warnings: SO MUCH ANGST IT HURTS, mild talks of suicide, mild violence and gore. _**

**_I do not own Teen wolf or any of it's characters. All the power rests in Jeff Davis!_**

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Chapter 1: **The Bite**

He never wanted this.

He never wanted to be a werewolf.

Even when he was lying on the brink of death, desperately clawing for one more breathe, he didn't want the bite.

He didn't want to be like Scott and Derek, people whose lives have become devoted to protecting the world.

He just wanted to be normal, defenseless, human Stiles.

He didn't want the power, he didn't want the danger that came with the territory. He wanted to bleed and feel pain like every person in this god forsaken world.

It was selfish really. Even now as he feels himself dying on the icy school floor, he still rather end his life than become a supernatural creature.

In fact, death didn't seem so bad anymore. After all, death was his escape. Death was his freedom.

His world was so dark now, filled with so much evil and heart ache. Allison was gone, her death becoming yet another number in the long lists of fallen loved ones that they would be forced to cope with.

His vision was becoming cloudy when he suddenly felt Scott grip his arm tightly.

"Stiles, I-I have to do something. Y-you're dying," Scott said panicking, his grip so tight that Stiles felt a slight tingle run through his numb body.

Stiles nodded, although he could only partly understand his friend's words. The room was filled with an excruciatingly loud buzzing sound, pounding at his ears. He desperately wanted it to stop. He wanted to stop feeling.

"Scott! Do it now," Derek ordered from the other side of Stiles, holding his arm and pressing it roughly to the cold tile floor.

Stiles could faintly feel a pair of soft hands cradling his head. Her calming voice telling him horrifying words and demands. "Stiles, you need to keep your eyes open. Sweetie, keep looking at me. Don't look down," Lydia whispered soothingly.

It was hard to not to panic, to not look at his withering body but Lydia's voice was too beautiful to deny. He wanted to melt into her arms, be consumed by her warmth, for Lydia had that light he had been stolen from a long, long time ago. He was dying now and he knew it. They all knew it and for the first time in months, he was welcoming the sleep full heartedly.

It was his time. His time to see Allison and his mother again. Stiles was ready for death to take him in his arms.

"SCOTT NOW!" Derek howled, gripping Stiles' arm tightly and feeling the pulse go deathly still.

Scott shot Derek a silent glare and looked at Lydia for approval. He couldn't do this without her permission. He couldn't make this decision alone.

He softly took hold of Stiles' wrist, wincing when he felt the icy, frail skin beneath his claws. His best friend, someone who once was so lively and boisterous was now stiff and thawing away.

Again, Scott looked at Lydia who stood at the base of Stiles's head, gently brushing her fingers through Stile's long hair, tears streaming down her face. He couldn't let her lose another friend. Not when they had already lost so much.

Lydia nodded at Scott, giving him the permission they both knew he didn't need to save their friend.

They had this discussion before. At the vet's office, after Allison died and Stiles was safely at Kira's for the time being, Scott and Lydia made a pact.

Together they would do whatever they had to do to protect Stiles. They would kill the nogitsune and do whatever was necessary to save him. No matter the consequences, they would not lose their Stiles. Losing Allison was hard enough, but to lose Allison _and_ Stiles? That would be unbearable.

Stiles felt Lydia's pause and he blinked up at her weakly. What was going on? Why was Lydia looking at Scott in guilt? What was about to happen to him?

Panic hit Stiles squarely in the chest, altering his dying instincts as realization finally dawned on him.

They were going to turn him.

No. No. No.

This was not happening. This couldn't be happening.

He didn't want this!

Stiles desperately tried to move his body, pleading with his friend to not do this, but he couldn't will his body to react.

It was like he was paralyzed.

Scott pressed Stiles' arm down to the cold tile floor, hoping to get a better angle. He lowered his head down hesitantly towards the skin and bit down, the metallic taste of blood washing over his fangs and consuming his senses.

Stiles tried to scream but he couldn't. All he could do was whimper and cry, tears running down his face as the agonizing werewolf venom met his blood stream and took over his body.

It was like he had swallowed gasoline and a pivotal match was set. A burning sensation ran throughout his entire body as he began to feel his whole arm vibrate to the rhythm of his strengthening pulse. His arm was aching terribly, blood he was once thought he'd never see again, leaked slowly out of his body.

Scott released his grip of Stiles' arm and slithered towards the wall opposite of Stiles, terrified of the consequences that his actions may induce. What if Stiles couldn't handle the bite? What if he died? What if Stiles never forgives him?

"I'm sorry," Scott croaked at Stiles, watching as his friend continued to squirm beneath Lydia's grasp painfully. At least his heart rate was becoming stronger again. Scott looked at Derek, who sat stiffly at Stiles side on his knees and titled his head at him, the absent gesture meaning everything. Derek nodded at the young Alpha and leaned back against the poorly painted school walls. The two of them didn't need words to understand each other. Not at a time like this. Stiles was going to need the whole pack to help him with his powers and the last thing he needed was his alpha and his fellow beta fighting.

Derek looked at Stiles numbly, sensing his growing strength and silently thanked whatever greater power above. Stiles was going to live. Derek could already tell.

Stiles could barely register his friend's words as he locked his lips together tightly, refusing to acknowledge the growing pain any longer. Lydia's once welcoming hands felt like fire beneath his head and he tried to wiggle himself away from her.

She betrayed him. They all betrayed him.

All he wanted was control of his life for once. Was that too much to ask for? He was ready to die and Lydia, Scott and Derek had stolen that from him.

Stiles didn't have much time for wallowing before blackness started to take over his vision. Just like his consciousness, the room was fading away and all that was left was the dull ache covering his broken body. The lights around him began to fog and an eerie silence surrounded the room.

The last thing he heard before he passed out was Scott say, "he'll never forgive me for this."

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_**Please review and favorite.**_

_**Make sure to check out my other ongoing stories "I'm Done" and "My Imperfectly Perfect Prince Charming" as well as my tumblr account"mslydiastilinski"**_

_**Coming soon...**_

_**Chapter 2: Beautiful Monster **_


	2. Chapter 2: Beautiful Monster

_**Hello everyone! First, I want to give a special thanks to HopeForDuende, Garso, kaisha99, and Charmaine2012 for taking the time to write reviews. I love when I get to hear what you guys think as the story continues to evolve. You all give me the courage to keep writing. **_

_**As for if Malia is in this story, the answer is YES! Although she is not one of the main characters, she is mentioned a lot in the story and will actually have a chapter devoted to her and Stiles interacting.**_

_**Reminder that questions are always welcomed in the review section. I LOVE answering them. **_

_**Warning: Mild violence and Gore. Mature language. Subtle talks of suicide and ANGST!**_

_**I do not own anything of Teen Wolf's. Jeff Davis is the mastermind of it all.**_

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Chapter 2: Beautiful Monster

_Blood. The red liquid that circulates in the arteries and veins of humans, carrying oxygen to and carbon dioxide from the body. _

_It was everywhere. It was fucking everywhere. _

_The heinous smell wafted through like a heavy wind, burning Stiles' nose and making his gag. He could feel the sticky substance on his hands, beneath his fingers and covering his mouth. The taste was vile. Stiles looked down to see his razor sharp claws gripping something gooey and unmoving. _

_It was a heart. _

_His shirt was drenched in blood and the remains of human intestines covered his shoes. It was like a ghastly painting. The blood, the human remains and the tears sending off waves of death, making Stiles want to scream in agony._

_There was so much blood._

_Oh god, there was so much blood._

_The heart within his deathly grasp began to beat and Stiles dropped it in horror, watching as it fell endlessly, never actually meeting the ground in whatever state he was in._

_Suddenly Stiles was in front of a mirror, his reflection covered in blood. He tilted his head in confusion, looking closer at the glass, sensing something strange about it. His mirror-self did not repeat the action and instead smirked at him evilly. With hauntingly beautiful blue eyes and ferocious fangs, the reflection snickered at him and Stiles stumbled back in fear._

"_We're going to destroy all of them, Stiles." _

"_One by one."_

"NO!" Stiles hysterically screamed as he jerked up from the bed and grabbed for his chest. He couldn't breathe. The room was spinning excruciatingly fast and he couldn't breathe. Stiles could hear his own heart beat beneath his chest, the rhythm erratic. He tried to suck in air but all he got in return was pain. He tried again but still to no avail. Why couldn't he breathe? It was like there was something lodged in his throat, blocking his airways. He needed air. If he didn't have air, he was going to die.

He was going to die.

He was going to-

"Stiles! Hey, hey it's okay. You're okay," Scott whispered to him urgently at his side, his large hands supporting his friend's shoulder. "You're safe," he added, not sure if that was meant for Stiles or for him.

Stiles gasped loudly when the air finally reached his lungs, the painful pressure finally being released. God, how long was he not able to breathe? How long was he dying? Stiles' head pounded from the lack of oxygen and he felt a wave of dizziness take over. The room was too bright, the sounds too loud. "What happened? How did I get here?" Stiles whimpered, rubbing at his head. His ears began to ring with the sound of multiple voices overwhelming his head.

"_He'll be okay."_

"…_...might die."_

"…_..monster…." _

What was happening to him? Where were all of the voices coming from?

"You passed out at the school and we took you here. You've be asleep for sixteen hours Stiles," Scott explained, the terrible sense of guilt making it difficult for him to look at his friend in the eye. He thought Stiles was going to die. He thought he was never going to wake up. "Stiles-"

Stiles covered his ears desperately, the sound of multiple heartbeats piercing his ears. "D-do you h-hear that?" Stiles shrieked. The voices were agonizing. There were too many of them and they were all too loud. It was like the sounds were attacking him, drowning his mind and making him defenseless.

Scott lifted his head to the side and sure enough, he could hear all of the voices down stairs whispering about Stiles. He involuntarily winced, knowing how overwhelming it could all be at once.

"Stiles, focus on my voice. Try to block everything else out and look at me," Scott said calmly, moving to sit in front of his friend. The first rush of power was always the worst.

"…_.Monster…."_ Stiles couldn't hear anything but that word. It was taunting him. _"…Monster…"_

"Make it stop, Scott. Please make it stop." Stiles pleaded, crushing his hands over his ears and rocking back and forth on the bed. He clamped his eyes shut harshly, praying for some kind of peace that he knew never existed.

"…_.Monster…"_

The tears began to flow uncontrollably and Stiles clenched his teeth. It was like a million sirens were being sent off right in his face and he couldn't handle it. "MAKE IT STOP!" Stiles screamed in misery. "MAKE IT STOP!"

Scott grabbed Stiles' shoulder squarely and held him down. "Stiles, look at me," he growled, his eyes flashing the dominant red. He hated having this kind of power over Stiles but he needed his friend calm. He needed his beta thinking clearly.

Immediately Stiles froze mid-breakdown and opened his eyes, his breathing uneven. He felt a strange sense of ease and as comforting as it was to not hear the voices anymore, he hated the fact that he was being submissive to Scott.

"Why did you do this to me?" Stiles cried, bringing a shaky hand to his face. The tears were concealing his vision but he was too tired to wipe them away. "I didn't want this."

Scott flinched at Stiles' words and released his grip on the man's shoulders. "I did it to save your life. You were dying, Stiles. The bite saved you," he whispered, the power completely stripped from his voice. _We couldn't lose you._

Stiles glared at him. Scott knew he never wanted to be a werewolf. He knew that Stiles would rather die than be like Derek or Peter, yet he still did this to him. "You should have let me die. I was ready to die! I wanted it. I wanted freedom and you took that away from me!" Stiles screamed angrily in Scott's face, not caring about how irrational it sounded.

"I did what I had to do to save you. You weren't meant to die. It wasn't your time," Scott spit back shamelessly. He would be guilty for a lot of things in his life but choosing to fight for his best friend would never be it.

Anger pulsed through Stiles' veins as he listened to Scott's unapologetic remark. He wanted to punch him in the face. "I didn't want this. I didn't-" Stiles stopped mid-sentence when he caught a glimpse of a strawberry blonde at the door, her light green eyes filled with concern and fear. Stiles' mouth watered at the scent of her jasmine perfume, Lydia's whole aura enticing him in ways he didn't know existed. Immediately, he felt different.

If Stiles thought he had feelings for Lydia before the transition than what he was feeling right now must have been an obsession. From the way she smelled like summer flowers to the sound of her steady heartbeat, Stiles was infinitely drawn to the girl. He wanted to touch her, to feel the new sensations when he pressed her soft, pale skin. He wanted to claim her.

He never felt this way before, never felt this urgent need to be protective and possessive at the same time in his entire life. He wanted her everything and that scared the living shit out of him.

He was a monster. He was a new werewolf with some serious PTSD and hyper active energy to match his fleeting attention span. He was a complete mess and the last thing Lydia Martin needed in her life right now. He was dangerous.

"Stiles-" Lydia said softly, her heart beating fiercely at the sight of her friend. She thought she was going to lose him when he fainted at the school. She thought she was going to lose yet another friend and mourn for his loss too.

But Stiles never gave up. He fought for his life with even ounce of strength he had and he survived. Lydia wanted nothing more than to hold him and never let go.

Stiles whipped his eyes from Lydia to Scott and clenched his fists. "She needs to go," he whispered numbly. He couldn't handle her right now. He couldn't handle the emotions he was feeling from the mere sight of her. He couldn't imagine how he would feel if she touched him.

Wincing at his words, Scott shook his head. He couldn't kick Lydia out. Not after she had stayed by Stiles' side for the past sixteen hours. He couldn't break her heart like that. "Stiles, she's here to help."

"She needs to leave right now," Stiles demanded, refusing to look at Lydia and instead staring at Scott angrily. "I don't want her here," he snarled.

Scott glanced at Lydia's face and took a deep breathe, the feeling of dread hitting him harshly. Stiles was in too much of a bad head space to understand the pain he was putting Lydia through by saying those simple words. "I can't kick her out," he said weakly.

Lydia took an adamant step inside the room, fear never even crossing her mind. All she could focus on was the ache of Stiles' hurtful words. He didn't want her here. He didn't want to see her.

Was she wrong to come here? Was this all a mistake to think Stiles needed her?

Lydia internally cursed at herself. Of course it wasn't a mistake.

Stiles was going through something too huge to be alone right now and she cared about him. In fact, she more than cared about him.

She loved him.

It wasn't until he lay dying on the school floor, clinging to life by his finger tips that Lydia realized the extent of her feelings. She was head over heels in love with Stiles Stilinski and she had always been.

"I'm not leaving," she said persistently. Stiles had been by her side all these years and now she needed to remain by his.

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat dryly and looked at Scott with pleading eyes. "If you don't get her out of here, then I will," he warned menacingly, his fingers digging into his palms sharp enough to draw blood.

Although Scott never thought in a million years that Stiles would ever hurt Lydia, he didn't miss the way the beta's heart tripled in speed at the sight of Lydia gaining space into the room.

Scott quickly jumped from the bed, blocking Lydia's access to Stiles any further and grabbed her shoulders softly. "Lydia, you need to leave," he said calmly. He needed to remain calm so Stiles could feel the reassurance. He needed Stiles to feel safe.

Lydia shook her head. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Stiles wasn't supposed to push her away. "Absolutely not. He needs us," she said stubbornly, her heart silently ripping at the seams. _He needs me._

Feeling the heart break from his friend, Scott rubbed gently at Lydia's shoulder, trying to comfort her in a way he knew never would. You can't fix broken hearts, especially not when everything else in your life is broken beyond repair. "Right now you're overwhelming him, Lydia. He can't handle you," he admitted, pushing her further out the door.

Lydia nearly broke down. "Please, I need to see him Scott," she begged, tears prickling her tired eyes. She just wanted to hold Stiles after everything. She wanted to be near him again.

"I'm sorry," Scott whispered, biting his lip and pulling her into long hug. Although he would never be as comforting to her as Stiles, he hoped he could give her some peace somehow. "I'll keep you updated."

Lydia clung to Scott's back and buried her face in his shoulders. "We're not losing him again," she said unwaveringly as she pulled away from Scott and looked over his shoulder at Stiles. He was staring at his shaking hands in his lap, lost in thought again. Lydia was dying to know what was going on in his mind. Was he as scared as she was? Was he missing her like she missed him? "He can't avoid me forever."

Scott nodded his agreement, secretly praying Lydia wouldn't try to push the boundaries with Stiles. He understood that she loved him. He could tell by the way she looked at him with such admiration, such devotion that her feelings for him were stronger than she had first anticipated but Stiles needed time.

He wasn't the same person anymore. He was an animal now, a superior species with an extremely brilliant mind and instinct. He was going to be trouble if Scott didn't teach him properly.

Stiles looked at the alpha darkly as he closed the door on Lydia, the anger from the whole encounter tearing away at his weak patience and morale. This was all Scott's fault. He was a monster because of him. His life would be forever ruined by one quick decision that wasn't even his. "I'm never going to forgive you for this."

Scott solemnly looked at his feet and sighed. "I know."

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_**Please take the time to review, favorite and follow my tumblr 'mslydiastilinski'.**_

_**Coming soon…..**_

_**Chapter 3: No Man's Land**_


	3. Chapter 3: No Man's Land

_**Special thanks to: clairemaurel06, SweetJay21, Shadow-wolf78, Sckitty, Aurora Abbot, tablearepasser, Ms luna moon, HopeForDuende, booksb4friends, Cata007**_

_**Warnings: Angst, mentions of self-harm, mild language and mild gore.**_

_**I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. Jeff Davis is the genius.**_

_**-This chapter is set a few weeks after chapter 2**_

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Chapter 3: No Man's Land

Stiles ran.

He ran as if his life depended on it, his lungs burning from the hours of exertion. He couldn't breathe anymore but he didn't care. Suddenly, Stiles whipped his body around a large tree standing in his path and darted for the sharp cliff in front of him, craving the escape. With legs loose like Jell-O, Stiles flung himself over the edge of the mountain, his adrenaline pumping too much to think about the consequences.

He didn't think about how he was about to jump at least twenty feet in the air. He didn't think about how he couldn't feel his legs or how his nose burned from all of the strange smells around him.

All of his energy was focused on getting to the other side of the mountain, to feeling the rush of flirting with death. Cold air hit his face as his legs lurched for the ground, the beads of sweat on his forehead nearly blinding him. The jump made his stomach drop painfully, the lack of structure beneath his feet terrifying but somehow calming.

For a split second the world faded. There were no werewolves, no evil supernatural creatures or villains. There were no monsters eating away at his conscience.

For a split second he was flying. He was free from the demons that plagued his world.

And then of course, it all came crashing down.

Stiles' feet slipped beneath him once he made contact with the other cliff, his hands moving to cover his face as he fell to the ground with a loud 'thud'. He painfully began to roll down the slope, rocks digging into his side and scrapping at his pale skin as he continued to fall and fall. His head hit a large bolder and Stiles shrieked in pain, instant dizziness taking him over.

He didn't know how long he had been tumbling down the mountain when the momentum finally stopped his body. Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours, who knew? Stiles flopped to the ground stiffly, his back laying on what felt like a thousand needles. He wordlessly opened his eyes and looked up at the crystal clear sky in shock, his chest achingly empty. He had to have fallen at least half a mile down the hill, perhaps three-fourths. Stiles gasped loudly when he finally felt the air be pulled into his lungs, his body wrenching at the sharp intake.

Stiles couldn't help but laugh. This was the kind of thing he always did nowadays. He was self-destructive and careless, never thinking about his actions and always, always looking for a thrill.

He tapped his bloody fingers on chest and sighed. He still had another five miles to go before he was completely physically and mentally exhausted.

Tonight was his first full moon and Stiles were terrified. He had been training with Scott and Derek for the past few weeks, learning how to control his powers and block out the overwhelming senses but he was still scared. Scott and Derek just didn't understand what he was feeling. They didn't get that his ADHD made him constantly hyper-aware of his surroundings and emotions. He was always on edge, always waiting for the chance to run to the ravine and escape from the impending danger and pain. He understood more than ever why Malia Tate didn't want to be human. Being human was too damn hard.

Stiles picked himself up from the ground, stretching his back and cracking his neck. He was positive he had broken a rib or two but he didn't even flinch. In less than two minutes it would be like this whole thing never even fucking happened. Stiles looked down at his shirt and cursed. He was covered in dirt. "_God dammit, this is my favorite shirt."_

Effortlessly, Stiles ripped off the clothing, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it. He had no doubt he looked like a mountain man. _Fuck it_. He _was_ a mountain man. Maybe the ravine was where he belonged, maybe he needed distance and isolation.

"Well, that was dramatic," a shrill voice laughed from behind him, his presence cold and somehow familiar.

Stiles turned on his heels and growled at the man. "What do you want, Peter?" Stiles demanded, glaring at the older wolf menacingly. He was the last man Stiles wanted to see. Like ever.

Peter smirked. "I heard you made the transition. I have to admit, I'm surprised. Scott doesn't seem like the kind of man to do that to his best friend."

He also didn't seem stupid enough to put such power in the ticking time bomb that was Stiles Stilinski but Peter didn't mention that.

Bile rose in Stiles' throat at the mention of his former friend. He didn't think Scott would ever do that to him either but he was obviously wrong. "Go away, Peter," Stiles snarled, choosing to avoid his last comment about his alpha. Peter was more trouble than he was even worth. After he tried and _failed _to help rescue Stiles from his subconscious back when the nogitsune had taken over, the man had disappeared in the night, leaving nothing but a trace to where he had stalked off too.

Stiles wasn't stupid enough to be believe that he had seen the last of the oldest Hale, but he certainly didn't think Peter would have the balls to return so quickly, especially after finding out that his one and only daughter was now a thriving member of the McCall pack.

Knowing he struck a nerve, Peter laughed sinisterly. "Sore subject for the beta? I have to say, I'm kind of angry I didn't turn you when I had the chance. Had I known I could do it without your permission, I could have sped up this process much faster," he grinned.

Stiles rolled his eyes. Once he had been afraid of this man, scared of his deadly red eyes and lethal fangs. Now, he was just itching to set Peter off, riffle up his ugly feathers and fight him for all he was worth. Stiles yearned to rip out his stupid, heinous heart from his chest and stomp on his dead body. He took a deep breathe, feeling the anger rise to a dangerous level.

"_Alpha, Beta, Omega." _Stiles chanted to himself silently.

"_Alpha, Beta, Omega."_

"_Alpha, Beta, Omega."_

"I don't have time for this," he finally muttered, at last feeling calm enough to talk again. He turned his back to Peter and prepared to run again. The ravine was his safe haven and he would be damned if he let Peter ruin that.

"You know, you remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. You have potential to be a great werewolf," Peter complemented, mentally patting himself on the back was he saw Stiles halt rigidly. This kid never used to be this easy to rifle up. It was too much fun to mess with him now.

Hatred surged through Stiles, his hands closing into fist as he turned around and faced the former Alpha. "I am _nothing_ like you," Stiles spit. Peter was a monster on a whole different level than Stiles. He would kill an innocent for power or revenge and not think twice about it.

Peter quirked an eyebrow at Stiles. "Really? Because I recall running these woods as a boy, too. I was addicted to the strength, the thrill of the chase and most of all, the _power_."

"I do _not_ want power," Stiles grumbled. He was not like Peter. He was not like Peter. If he said it enough times, would he finally believe himself? Peter was a monster. He had killed so many people in simple hatred and vengeance but then again, so had Stiles.

Squinting at him with judging eyes, Peter chuckled again. "Sure you do. Why do you think the nogitsune chose you out of all people, Stiles? Because you're human? No, it's because he saw something in you. He saw the same thing I see," he explained smugly. It was always supposed to be Stiles. That very first night, the night where he bit Scott, Peter was hunting for _Stiles_. He had been watching the boy for a long time, learning his behaviors and studying his instincts. He wanted the little spitfire in his pack.

Sure, Scott was physically stronger, even with the asthma, but what Stiles lacked in strength he made up with quick wit and knowledge. He was a force to be reckon with even if he didn't realize it yet.

"He saw the power. He saw your addiction to the strength and superiority. You're unique, Stiles. You have a brilliant mind and a fierce instinct that just has to be perfected. You will be incredibly powerful if trained properly, more powerful than Scott. Just let me train you," Peter continued.

Uncontrollably, Stiles' heart raced. Could he really be stronger than Scott? Could he really beat the famous, almighty Alpha if he tried?

It wouldn't be that hard. Scott's a terrible alpha. He would never expect his best friend to betray him like that. All Stiles had to do was get him while his back was turned, swipe a claw at his neck and watch as the blood drained from him limp body. It would be easy. Quick. Painless.

And then Stiles would have the power. Then he would be able to run away from this town and never look back.

He would finally be free.

Stiles looked at Peter carefully, noticing the tired bags under his eyes and his grey, wrinkled skin. His stance was stiff and threatening but his eyes were frantic. He was withering away, slowly morphing into his wild, desperate animal form.

As much as Stiles hated it, he was like Peter. He was chaotic, compulsive and spiteful, just like the former Alpha. His sins were ugly and possessive, suffocating him. He could easily follow Peter into the darkness, let the power swallow him whole and just die but he didn't want to.

He wanted to be good again. He wanted to be happy.

Stiles knew deep in his heart and soul that he would never hurt Scott. He would never betray his friend, no matter how much he hated him. They were brothers, distant brothers at best but still brothers. To kill Scott was to kill himself.

"No," Stiles said simply. "No to all of it. I may be like you Peter but I don't want to be." _I'm too scared to be like you._

Panic gripped at Peter's chest. He would _not_ go back to being a weak beta. He would not be kicked out of this town again. _This is my home. My town. _ "You were like me before you turned into a werewolf and you will continue to be like me until the day you die. That's the humor of it all, Stiles. No matter how hard you try, you will always be the boy whose first instinct is to control." _You will always be an animal._

Peter needed Stiles. He needed him in his pack if he ever wanted to defeat Scott and he _would_ have him.

"People can change. I've seen it, from Scott, from Derek, from Malia," Stiles explained stubbornly. He could change. He would change.

"The worst is already done, Stiles. You have already passed the point of no return. The things you did as the nogitsune, the people you killed, it changed you. You will always have darkness in your heart. That is who are now and I'm the only one who will accept that. While Scott and Derek shame you into fighting your instincts, your god given talent, I'll teach you to manipulate it. I'll teach you how to live. "

Stiles swallowed dryly, his throat feeling bloody and raw from the promise. "You're wrong," he mumbled desperately, pushing past Peter and running for the cliff again. He needed to get away. He needed to stop thinking about everything again. Screw his routine, Peter ruined it just like he ruined everything else in his life.

Peter's laugh blew through the air as if it was a part of the breeze. "Am I?" he asked as Stiles continued to literally run for his life. "Tell me, what color are your eyes?"

Stiles froze, his body immediately going numb from the impact of Peter's question.

"_I don't know,"_ Stiles thought helplessly.

He didn't know and he was terrified to find out.

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_**I know this chapter didn't have a lot going on in it but it's definitely necessary for the plot. I have always believed that if Peter had been given a do-over, he would have turned Stiles into a werewolf instead of Scott. I feel like Peter respects Stiles and sees him as the potential threat he really is.**_

_**Please review, follow and favorite. The more reviews I get, the faster I tend to write the next chapter.**_

_**Don't forget to check out my tumblr 'mslydiastilinski'**_

_**Coming soon…..**_

_**Chapter 4: My Sins**_


	4. Chapter 4: My Sins

_**Special thanks to: Aurora Abbot, aliciasellers75, AngieStilinski, Jeph17, Shadow-wolf78, Nic, Guest(s), Hopeforduende, Cata007, and Destiny919**_

_**Warnings: Angst, detailed talk of self-harm, mild language and gore.**_

_**I do not own any of Teen Wolf. The evil mastermind that is Jeff Davis makes me cry every Monday.**_

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Chapter 4: My Sins

Stiles screamed.

Everything was on fire.

His whole body was ablaze, his heart fueling the raging storm beneath his skin. He collapsed to the ground, clenching his teeth as intense shrieking sounds erupted through the room. His claws grabbed for the sides of his face, desperately wanting to rip off his burning skin. "_I'm on fire and I'm dying._ _I'm on fucking fire and I'm dying." _Stiles thought.

Suddenly, a tearing sensation ran through Stiles' chest, making him double over in pain. It was like his insides were attacking him, devouring all of his flesh and bones. He could feel his ribs crackling beneath him, the undeniable ache pouring through his body like lava. His heart was beating at an inhumane speed, the rhythm erratic and unclear. Everything was moving too fast. Everything was happening too fast.

Stiles gasped painfully as his face hit the cellar floor, a powerful 'ripping' sound erupting through his mouth. He bit down hard on his lip, the bitter taste of blood freezing his tongue. His fangs were shredding his gums open, the sharp points stabbing the inside of his mouth.

"S-Scott you have to make it stop. Please, just kill me!" Stiles begged as he cradled his face and rolled into a fetal position_. Please, please, please._

Scott winced as his friend began to beg. "I can't," he muttered helplessly. He couldn't end his friend's life. He couldn't live in a world without Stiles. "I can't," _and I won't._

Fire erupted through Stiles' stomach, making him lurch forward. His lips quivered as he brutally threw up blood, the force enough to make his arms give out beneath him. "KILL ME!" he cried angrily. "KILL ME. KILL ME. KILL _ME!_"

Stiles just wanted to end it all. Life wasn't worth this kind of pain. _Nothing_ was worth this kind of pain. "Please," _please make this pain go away. _

Collapsing next to Stiles, Scott stared at his friend weakly. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to make this better.

In the back of Scott's mind, he knew Stiles should be chained up right now. His alpha instincts were telling him to take charge, to enforce safety but his human side was telling him the opposite. "Stiles, you can do this. The first change is always the hardest. It will get easier, I promise," he muttered dimly. _Don't ask me to hurt you because I won't. I'll never hurt you again._

Grimacing, Stiles sat up. Easier? How on earth was this supposed to get easier? "A-are you serious?" he growled. "How the hell can you even say that?" Stiles yelled, gripping tightly at his aching stomach. How the hell could Scott act so calm about this?

Scott put his hand out to touch Stiles but instantly retracted when he saw him flinch. "Because I know," he swallowed dryly. "I've been through this too. You're not going through anything I haven't gone through myself."

Chuckling angrily, Stiles shook his head. Scott didn't understand. He would never understand. "Scott, I'm an ADHD werewolf who less than three weeks ago was possessed by a demon spirit. What I'm going through you certainly haven't."

Scott bit his lip at Stiles' statement, unable to deny the truth any longer. What Stiles was going through, what he was able to see and sense as a werewolf, wasn't something Scott was used to. Even as an alpha he still hadn't had the type of awareness that Stiles had devolved in the last three weeks. "I know pain and I know you. Stiles, you can do this," he reassured, although even to him his voice seemed weak.

Was Stiles struggling because of his power? Was the darkness in his heart killing him from the inside out?

With claws digging into his sides, Stiles groaned. "Stop saying that! Stop acting like everything is going to be okay. Nothing is ever going to be okay, Scott!" _I will never be okay._ "I can't handle this. I'm just a teenager."

Scott looked up at his friend in remorse, his words hanging in the air silently. "_I'm just a teenager." _Funny, Allison had said the same thing not too long ago.

Covering his face into his hands, Scott sighed loudly. "I know," he admitted. Scott knew all too well about what it was like to be a young kid dealing with adult problems. He knew what it was like to feel the weight of the world crushing your shoulders. "I know and I'm sorry. I'm sorry you have to go through this Stiles, I really am but you'll be okay. I know it doesn't seem that way right now but eventually you'll learn to control it. It does get easier."

Stiles' hard stare fixated on Scott for a few moments before he looked away in disgusts. Peter was right about one thing. Stiles could be stronger than Scott if he tried. It wouldn't take much and with the returning bone splitting sensation in his stomach, it seemed possible. "Always the optimist," Stiles muttered sarcastically as he laid his head down on the floor of Lydia's lake house cellar.

Tonight was the full moon and to say Stiles was struggling with the transition was an understatement.

He couldn't control his senses.

He couldn't control his shifts.

He couldn't even control his anxiety anymore.

"_I'm the worst goddamn werewolf in history," _he thought to himself tiredly before he slipped into grey nothingness from the unbearable pain.

* * *

The sound of a slow dripping faucet woke Stiles up a few hours later, the constant noise doing nothing for his concentration. Painfully he sat up from his position on the floor, his bones stiff and rigid. He squinted his eyes around the cellar, struggling to remember where he was. The moon was still fully out, the bright light casting a blue glow around the room and making Stiles squint. He took a breath. He knew he still had several more hours of this to go before he was in the clearing.

His attention turned back to the faucet again, his mouth suddenly dry. Water. He desperately needed water.

Wordlessly, Stiles stumbled to the bathroom, his feet working like Jell-O beneath him. "_Dammit feet, get your shit together!"_ he thought groggily, grabbing for the nearest wall as he felt his knees buckle beneath him.

Scott stirred on his back uncomfortably, Stiles' sudden movements waking him up from his nap. He reluctantly opened his eyes, the moon's blaring light nearly blinding him. His gaze shifted to where he had last seen Stiles asleep and Scott froze. "Stiles?" he called in concern.

"Just getting some water," Stiles yelled as he turned on the bathroom light.

Immediately a wave of panic washed through Scott's body. The bathroom. The mirror. Stiles' eyes. "Stiles wait!" he yelled fearfully, picking himself off the floor as fast as he could. Stiles hadn't seen his eyes yet. He hadn't seen the change. Oh no!

Stiles froze the minute his eyes fell on his reflection.

No.

Please god no.

With fangs as sharp as knives protruding from his mouth and eyes the color of ice, Stiles perfectly resembled the monster from his nightmares. He stumbled back in fear, hitting the wall behind him loudly.

"It wasn't me. It wasn't me," Stiles cried in confusion as he shook his head. It was the nogitsune, not him. He hadn't meant to hurt those people. He hadn't meant to kill anyone!

But he did and his eyes were blue because of it.

The police officers at the station,

The nurses from the hospital,

Allison.

He had hurt them all. He was the reason they were all dead.

_I'm a monster._

Stiles' breathing became short and rapid, the lack of oxygen burning the back of his throat. His head buzzed with the sounds of the house and backyard, his control completely gone. His vison began to fog around the edges, the only thing he could see being the damn mirror. Stiles wanted to scream but no words came out. He looked down at his hands suddenly and realized that they were circled around his throat, the claws piercing his skin rough enough to draw blood. He started to squeeze.

Scott ran to Stiles, desperately trying to pry his hands away from his throat. "Stiles let go!" he demanded in fear. Stiles was trying to kill himself. He was trying to cut his own head off. "Let go!" he shouted, his eyes flashing red.

What Scott didn't realize was that Stiles couldn't hear him anymore. All of his strength, all of his concentration was focused on killing himself. It was like he was in a haze, watching the whole world move down below. He could feel Scott's hands on his arms and the distant shouting but Stiles couldn't understand. All that mattered in that moment was the thick blood that dropped to the floor as he tightened his grip and moved farther across his neck.

He wasn't even looking at Scott as he continued to harm himself, his eyes wandering off into some random direction. Scott yelled again, the revolting smell of blood hitting his nose. "Stiles, please stop!" he begged.

Stiles growled like the animal he had become and threw his arms out to push Scott away. Scott had to get away. The alpha was a threat.

He was the enemy.

Scott flew to the ground painfully, crumbling to the floor as his head hit the concrete. He sat up on his elbows, his head spinning from the impact of the ground and tried to return his focus back on Stiles. The room was spinning as he tried to sit up, his feet uncooperative. He definitely had a concussion. "DEREK! ISAAC!" he screamed hysterically. Scott needed help. Stiles was too strong to handle on his own. "MALIA!"

Hearing the commotion below Derek, Isaac and Malia all sprinted down the stairs, adrenaline pumping their veins. Something was wrong. Something was going horribly wrong if their alpha was calling them.

Derek caught sight of Scott first, the broken alpha struggling to get on his feet as he moved closer to Stiles. The smell of blood covered the whole room, the metallic scent making Derek want to vomit. "HELP ME!" Scott cried desperately, his eyes never leaving Stiles.

All four members of the pack looked at Stiles and charged at him, their eyes flashing different colors. Malia and Isaac grabbed for Stiles' shoulders, their combined strength pinning Stiles back. Both Derek and Scott launched themselves at Stiles' hands, their own claws digging into his wrists. "STILES STOP!" Isaac yelled, clenching his teeth as his grip on Stiles' shoulders loosened when the boy suddenly jerked backward.

Stiles wasn't thinking straight. All he felt was utter panic as the members of the pack tried to stop him. He had to get free. He had to run away from all of these people. "LET ME GO!" he screamed, his fangs snapping at Derek's hands. "LET ME GO!"

Malia gave Isaac a questioning look. She didn't understand why Scott was making his beta go through this, why he wasn't just letting Stiles handle this on his own. She knew what it was like to stop fighting for control and let instinct take over. It was wonderful when you finally let yourself stop _feeling _human emotion and start acting like the animal you were designed to be_._

"Stiles, stop hurting yourself!" Scott shouted, his hands desperately trying to release Stiles' death grip on his throat.

No. No. No.

Stiles wanted this, he needed this. He couldn't go on living this way. All of his nightmares were real, he was a murderer and a monster. His eyes revealed the past he had once thought he could bury with redemption and good deeds. He had to do this, he had to end his life before he gave someone else a reason to.

He couldn't hear any of his friend's pleas. All that mattered was the sound of his slowing pulse and the feel of the blood on his fingertips.

"Stiles, look at me," a soft feminine voice said to him suddenly, her gentle hands caressing his sweaty face.

A pair of warm green eyes met Stiles' blue ones and his breath caught. "Lydia?" he whimpered. When did she get here? How did she get here?

"Lydia, you shouldn't be here. Stiles is dangerous." Derek growled, his eyes never wavering from Stiles' claws on his throat. The teenager was becoming more and more unpredictable every day and Lydia was putting herself in the crossfire.

"_Teenagers._" Derek thought tiredly.

Lydia shot Derek a silent glare and looked back at Stiles with pleading eyes. "He needs me," she whispered, rubbing softly at Stiles' rough skin. She was not going to leave, not when Stiles was so set on hurting himself.

When she had first heard the screaming down stairs Lydia had practically toppled towards the door but Kira stopped her.

_"You're not safe down there," she said gently._

Lydia knew Kira was right. She knew Stiles was compulsive and erratic but she didn't care. She was Stiles' tether goddammit.

So when she heard Stiles cry out from the cellar again she pushed past Kira with all her might and ran down the stairs, unfazed by the impending danger.

Scott watched with both concern and awe as Lydia brought her hands closer to Stiles' claws, his hands growing limp on his throat almost immediately.

"_How the hell is she doing that?"_ Scott thought.

"Stiles, it's okay. Just look at me," Lydia soothed, her hands grazing his fingers which were still wrapped around his throat.

Slowly Lydia removed Stiles' hand from his throat, the fresh blood coating her skin as she held on tightly to him. "It's okay."

Immediately the rest of the members of the pack released their grip on Stiles, all of their eyes looking from Stiles to Lydia in shock.

The room remained silent for a few more moments, everyone watching as Lydia continued to comfort Stiles before Isaac grabbed Malia's forearm and pulled her towards the door. He knew that whatever was going on between Stiles and Lydia was not for their set of eyes to see. "We'll be upstairs," he said to Scott and Derek, motioning for them to leave the room as well.

Scott shot Stiles one more careful look before nodding at Derek, giving him the permission to leave too. He wanted to say something, anything to fix whatever had just happened between him and Stiles but he didn't know what. He didn't know how to fix their relationship anymore.

Stiles backed away from Lydia once the others left, her touch setting fire to his skin. He sunk to the ground as his back hit the wall behind him and covered his face in his bloody hands. "What's wrong with me?"

Lydia's heart ached as she watched the boy crumble into himself, the walls that protected his heart falling down. "Nothing is wrong with you," she said adamantly, falling on her knees to look at him in the eye. She softly touched Stiles' cheek and led his face up to look at her. "Stiles, nothing is wrong with you," she repeated.

Tears fell from Stiles' eyes as he looked at Lydia. She was so beautiful that it hurt. He didn't deserve. He would never deserve her. "I'm a monster," he cried, the salty taste of tears making his tongue go dry.

Lydia frowned at Stiles and shook her head. "You're not a monster," she said truthfully. Lydia knew what a monster was. She knew it was someone like Peter or the Nogitsune. She knew it was someone who felt no remorse or empathy.

Stiles wasn't a bad guy. She was sure of it like she was sure the sun would come out tomorrow and that the stars would always be in the night sky. Stiles was one of the good guys. He was kind, gentle and sincere. He loved her just as much as she loved him.

Stiles bit his lip and looked down at his bloody hands and sharp claws. He was everything a monster was. "My eyes are blue," he admitted, knowing that she already had seen them earlier. Hell, Lydia probably knew that before even looking at them.

Touching each side of his face, Lydia smiled sadly. "I know," she whispered. She had known all along what color they would be and she hated the Nogitsune even more because of it. "But they're still beautiful. You're still beautiful Stiles," she confessed.

He would always be beautiful. He would always be the boy with the charming smile and dazzling eyes. He would always have the kind of hair that dared to be played with and the hands that were born to be held. He would always be Stiles.

Her Stiles.

"I'm scared," Stiles muttered. He was scared of who he had become. He was scared of who he wanted to be.

"Me too," Lydia whispered as she draped her arms around Stiles tightly and hugged him for all he was worth. "Me too."

Back upstairs, Scott listened as Stiles and Lydia continued to console each other. Their words brought him both guilt and comfort. He closed his eyes tiredly, the events of the night exhausting him more than he would care to admit.

"Is he okay?" Derek asked as he walked over to Scott and gestured towards the cellar stairs.

Scott nodded and rubbed at his eyes. "The training isn't working for Stiles. He isn't getting better," he admitted. Nothing was fucking working.

Derek sighed loudly. "I know. I'll do some research and see what I can do, alright?"

"Whatever we do, it needs to happen fast," Scott said. "I don't think we can keep doing this for too much longer." _I don't think I can stop Stiles from hurting himself._

* * *

_**So I'm not that happy with this chapter to be quite honest. There was a lot I wanted to add but I think it just ended up being messy. School has begun again for me so updating will be less frequent (sorry loves).**_

_**Please take the time to review, favorite and check out my tumblr 'mslydiastilinski'. The more reviews I get, the quicker I tend to update. I would love to see how you guys are like the story thus far!**_

_**Coming soon…..**_

_**Chapter 5: Our Broken Souls**_

_***Major Stydia chapter to come!***_


	5. Chapter 5: Our Broken Souls

_**Wow, it's nearly been two weeks since my last update. I suck you guys. I'm so, so, so sorry.**_

_**The worst part is that this isn't even a chapter that I'm that proud of. It definitely does not have enough angst for my liking.**_

_**On the positive side, Teen Wolf finale is tomorrow! *Insert ugly crying***_

_**I do not own anything of Teen Wolf. Jeff Davis holds all of the power in the universe.**_

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Chapter 5: Our Broken Souls

_Lydia once knew a boy at school that would greet her every day before class in the third grade. He had big brown doe eyes that never seemed to blink and long brown hair that flopped down in his face. He was pale and skinny, his body a mess of uncoordinated limbs and a pair of overzealous hands that moved too much. _

_He was loud and talkative, labeled the unintentional class clown by many and he was bullied by most of his peers for his lack of interest in sports._

_She wasn't friends with him. No one was friends with the boy except for Scott McCall, the only boy known in history to be able to handle his friend's chaotic behavior, but Lydia did know him. How could she not when the boy said hi to her every morning, his arms flailing to the sides to catch her attention as if she was some deaf old person?_

_They weren't in the same social circles. Stiles was a nobody, a kid that just didn't fit in no matter what he did and Lydia, well Lydia was a somebody. She was friends with everyone that mattered and had a long list of talents that surpassed the usual third grader abilities. _

_In the fourth grade, Jackson Whittemore told Lydia she was his girlfriend and her popularity was sealed. She was no longer just the sister of the beautiful Sinclair Martin or daughter of famous Dan and Natalie Martin. No, she was Lydia Martin, girlfriend of Jackson Whittemore, the most popular boy in class and future valedictorian. She had new friends, girls that had never even looked at her before now flocked to her side because thee Jackson Whittemore was by her boyfriend. She was special. People knew her. People respected her._

_The boy with the big amber eyes still said hi to her every morning and more often than not, Lydia found herself dreading the daily production. Stiles was just a nerd in every sense. He was the 'uncool spaz' with the ever-growing interest in plaid shirts and Star Wars. Even being associated with the boy left people in the danger of becoming social outcasts._

_Then one day Stiles didn't show up to school and Lydia didn't get her daily dose of flailing arms and sarcasm. She wondered where he had gone, if he had somehow gotten bored with his infamous crush on her and decided that his time was better spent on other interests. _

_She never told anyone that she noticed the disappearance of the gangly loser in class._

_It was a week later that the teacher finally ended the rumors of Stiles' sudden lengthy disappearance. Some theorized that the boy had gotten sick with the flu, overdramatized his fever or something. Other's thought he was on vacation somewhere playing with his superhero action figures or bothering other innocent civilians. Some even thought he had transferred schools because of bullying._

_Of course it was none of those things. The room was dead silent as Ms. Lane told the class about the passing of Stiles Stilinski's mother. No one moved. No one spoke. Even Jackson, someone who had been vocally praising Stiles' absence, remained quiet. Even though they were only ten years old, every student in that classroom understood the weight of the teacher's words. _

_Death is permanent. _

_Lydia swore she heard one of the boy's in the back start to cry._

* * *

_She still remembers the funeral as clear as day. Her mother had known Claudia back in high school and the loss had affected her deeply. "We haven't talked to each other in ten years, yet I still hear her laugh. It's strange the things we remember about a person after they die," Natalie said to her daughter that morning as she brushed her hair. "I'll miss her."_

_There weren't many people at the cemetery. The Stilinski's were a small family that had a close knit of friends they surrounded themselves with. _

_Scott stood next to his mother in the front, his face cast downward in a grim line. He hadn't been to school since Claudia's death either. _

_Jackson and his parents stood near the middle, their formal suits pinched and pressed perfectly for the occasion. They never even looked down at their cell phones once._

_When the funeral started Lydia's eyes fell to Stiles and his father. The boy looked so strong, so brave in his oversized suit and tie. His face was stoic as they moved the casket down, his eyes glued to the lilies resting on top of the box. He fiddled with the loose string on his jacket and clenched his fist as the priest said the final words for his mother. _

"_Goodbyes are often hard to say,_

_they hurt so very much._

_Though you're not gone. _

_You still remain,_

_in the minds, hearts, and lives you've_

_touched"_

* * *

_Stiles was not the same after his mother's death. Sure, he was still talkative, still as mouthy as ever but he smiled less. His laugh wasn't heard from across the room anymore, the once boisterous and charismatic sound now a soft chuckle in the confines of the corner. His hair was different too. The soft waves were gone and all that was left on his head was an inch of buzzed hair. He was still a dork, still the class clown but people made fun of him less. Suddenly Stiles wasn't just some annoying dweeb. Now, he was the boy who lost his mother at ten years old. He was the boy who had to stay late after school because his father was too busy to pick him up._

_As much as Lydia hated to admit it (and as much as Stiles surely hated to acknowledge) people felt bad for his family. Claudia was the glue that held the Stilinski's together and after her passing, the two boys struggled to stay afloat. John started to drink more. Stiles started to get into fights at school. The two of them were falling apart before everyone's eyes and no one could do anything about it. _

_Eventually things did get better though. John Stilinski got promoted at work and Stiles' grades began to improve. Through their grief the two men were able to create an unbreakable bond between father and son. Slowly, they found themselves again._

_When high school came around, everyone forgot all about Stiles Stilinski. He wasn't interesting anymore. His life (which once was the town's latest gossip) became like everyone else's: plain and boring. Like many other faces back in elementary school, he began to fade from Lydia's memory. Soon she forgot all about the name of the boy who had once plagued her mind after his mother's funeral and stolen her concentration time after time. _

_Then grade ten happened and everything changed._

_First she was terrorized by a crazy alpha werewolf that's life mission was ruin everything. Then her boyfriend became a Kanima, a lizard-like creature that murdered everyone. After that it was the Alpha pack that also had a habit of murdering people and the Darach who was famous for her sacrificial rituals. _

_All during this time, Lydia did not have a choice in participating in these battles. The supernatural life was thrust into her direction with no rhythm or reason. One minute she was a normal high school student who argued with her boyfriend about movies and the next, she was a banshee who had a habit of watching everyone around her die._

_It was hard to not feel alone. Lydia could hear things others couldn't. She could sense things that people didn't understand. _

_She thought she was going crazy._

_Everyone thought she was going crazy. _

_Everyone except Stiles Stilinski._

_Stiles Stilinski, the boy who had once publicly admitted his crush on her in the third grade did not believe she was crazy. When Peter attacked her, Stiles was there to tell her it was okay. When she cried over Jackson the night everyone thought he was lost, Stiles held her hand. When the Darach kidnapped her and threatened to take her life, Stiles fought for her. He was always there for her. He was always her protector._

_She knew he loved her. He didn't have to say the words. She knew by the way he'd look at her in class, eyes filled with admiration and kindness. She knew by the way he always stood a little closer to her than necessary and by the way he scowled when anyone ever tried to touch her. She knew he loved her and eventually she loved him back. She loved the way his hand felt in her own and how his arms always tightened around her when she was cold. She loved the way he made her feel safe and secure and beautiful. _

_She loved that he made her a better version of herself._

_Of course, she never said any of this. Lydia stupidly thought she had more time. She thought she had more time to tell Stiles that yes, she finally knew what Allison meant when she talked about loving someone so much they took your breath away. _

_It was when Stiles went missing that Lydia learned it was too late. It was when the boy who always figured it out fell apart before her very eyes did she realize that things would never be the same. Lydia doesn't remember much of the night Stiles went missing. It was like the world stopped in that moment, like the earth stopped rotating and the sun stopped shining. Everything was painfully still. _

_It was agonizing to watch him wither away in front of her. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to save one of her best friends. Stiles was the one that saved people. Stiles was the hero in all of this, not her. _

_And then most the unfathomable thing happened and Lydia lost her best friend. _

"_ALLISON!" She remembered crying as she felt the sword tear through her friend's stomach. _

_Lydia couldn't help it, she started to scream. She screamed until her throat went raw. She screamed until she felt the pain make her dizzy. Allison, the girl that she had looked at as a sister was dead. Her best friend was dead. _

_To make matters worse, the battle wasn't over. Lydia knew it wasn't over as she held a fragile Stiles in her arms. _

_Stiles was losing his fight against the Nogitsune and slipping away._

_"He's dying," Lydia blurted to Scott the night they lost Allison. At the time, they were standing in Deaton's office waiting to find out if the vet knew how to stop the Nogitsune once and for all. _

_Time was running out, Lydia could feel it in her bones._

_Scott's face went grey. "I know," he could smell it on his best friend, the death. __It was like his own body was eating itself away. He couldn't help but check his phone for the billionth time._

**_From Kira:_**

_He just woke up._

**_To Kira:_**

_How is he?_

**_From Kira:_**

_He remembers what happened Scott. It's not pretty._

_"We can't lose him," Lydia said, pulling back Scott's attention. "I won't lose him too Scott." _

_The werewolf looked at Lydia somberly. This was his fault. If he had realized Stiles was in trouble sooner, they would have been able to stop this. They would have been able to save everyone. "What do you want me to do?" he whispered. "How do I fix this? How do I make things right again?"_

_Lydia looked Scott bitterly. Things could never be fixed. They had lost too much already. "I want you to be the alpha you were meant to be. I want you to save Stiles."_

_He didn't have to ask her what she meant. They had already had this discussion before. "What if he hates me?" Scott asked._

_Lydia shook her head and grabbed Scott's hands tightly. "At least he'll be alive enough to hate you. I don't care about the consequences. Save him, Scott. Save Stiles."_

_Save Stiles._

The words rang in Lydia's ears as she held a crying Stiles in her lap, her fingers brushing through his sweaty nape of hair and blood covered face. She was the reason he was this way, she was the one that convinced Scott to do this to his best friend. If Stiles knew the truth, if he had known the reasoning behind Scott's decision, he would never forgive her. He would hate her forever.

"It's going to be okay Stiles," Lydia whispered. She was going to make it okay. She was going to help him if it's the last thing she ever did.

"It's going to be okay."

* * *

_**Please, please, please review. Tell me your thoughts. Tell me your theories. Tell me what you had for lunch this afternoon, I don't care. There were many times during this writing process that I had to go back to your reviews for inspiration. The reviews mean the world to me. Lots of love!**_

_**Special thanks:**_ _**hadow-wolf78, Guest, Nicole, InfantThaddeus, Transition88, Dragon, abusemafalda85, Destiny919, Glarinetta**_

_**Coming soon…..**_

_**Chapter 6: Lost Connections**_


	6. Chapter 6: Lost Connections

_**Hey everyone! Once again, I'm sorry about not updating sooner. School is really kicking my butt (curse college algebra honors!)**_

_**Special thanks to: Shadow-wolf78, Wolfwind97, Guest, Melissa, Gothic Nightmare, Nicole, Dragon, Gershwin073, Glarinetta, Cata007, abusenarniadreamer1, abuseAurora Abbot, abusenarniadreamer1, Archer0378, abusenarniadreamer1, abuseHopeForDuende and anyone else I forgot to mention!**_

_**This chapter is much longer than previous ones and I can't personally tell if that's a good thing lol. Some parts of this chapter I really love but other parts not so much.**_

_**ALSO! This chapter has many references to the last chapter so you may want to reread that to understand some of the story. **_

_**Warnings: Language, mild talk of self-harm, angst AND sexual content (yeppers, you read that right!)**_

* * *

Chapter 6: Lost Connections

_Once upon a time, the Sun and the Moon coexisted in the sky. They were always side by side, casting both rays of flaming heat, and shadows of chilling winter. The Sun secretly fell deeply in love with the Moon, but he soon realized that he was choking out the other's beauty. So now the Sun dies every day to let the Moon breathe._

Lydia ran her hand carelessly over the jeep's dashboard, loving the way the vehicle hummed beneath her fingertips. The jeep was possibly her favorite place in the world. It held memories, their memories and she felt an unexplainable ease sitting there in the passenger seat watching the clouds pass by.

She took a chance and peaked at Stiles under her eyelashes.

God, he was beautiful. He was the kind of beautiful that stole your breath away, the kind of beauty that snuck up on you. It was painful to look at him sometimes. He was perfect, yet completely broken and Lydia was addicted.

It was ironic really. Had they been different people, had they lived in another life, another universe, Lydia somehow knew that they would have had their happy ending. She knew that one day Stiles would have plucked up the courage to ask her out and she would have said yes. They would have dated, fallen in love in high school and gotten married. It would have been the perfect white-picket fence life with an infinite amount of love.

They would have been happy.

But this wasn't an alternate universe. Their lives weren't fairytales and there was no happy ending in sight for a long, long time.

"Stop staring," Stiles mumbled plainly, without glancing her way. His voice was hoarse.

Lydia crossed her arms in defiance. "I wasn't staring."

"Liar."

Okay, so she was staring but how could she not? Last night she watched Stiles crumble apart. She could still remember kissing his head as he convulsed violently in his sleep and begged for his death. She could still feel the blood on her fingertips from the time Stiles tried to attack her and hear the sound of his apologies.

The whole night was a nightmare and the worst part was that it was all her fault.

When she walked past Scott the next morning he could barely even look at her and Lydia knew why. The guilt was eating away at him too.

"Stiles-"

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, cutting her off. He clenched his jaw tightly and stared at the road ahead of them. He was lost in his mind again, fixating on the same memories that had plagued his thoughts for the past three weeks.

Time was a funny thing really. It moved continuously. Through both tragedy and joy, life moved on. People didn't have the luxury of dwelling on anything anymore. No matter the pain, the sorrow or guilt, time continued. To survive without getting buried in the heap of it all, people had to move forward.

If only Stiles could.

"It's gonna rain," Stiles muttered after a few minutes of awkward silence. The clouds were grey and the sky was a charcoal black. Perhaps he'd go jogging later.

Lydia bit her lip. This was what their relationship had come to: painful small talk and uncomfortable silence.

She'd give everything away to have it all back. She give her life and soul to stop all of this from happening to Stiles, to everyone. She'd stop Peter from biting Scott. She'd stop Derek from returning to Beacon Hills to screw everything up. She'd stop herself from making a decision that was never hers to begin with.

Lydia turned to face Stiles. He really had changed a lot in the last few weeks. The scars no longer held a home on his skin but instead on his heart and in his eyes.

Did he feel anything for her anymore?

"Can I ask you something?" Lydia asked quietly.

Stiles visibly stiffened but nodded. He didn't really feel like talking but he wasn't going to argue with her.

Lydia took a deep breath and asked Stiles the question she had been dying to know since the very beginning.

"What was it like? When you were possessed, I mean. You don't talk about it much."

It was a personal question, Lydia knew that, much but at this point she didn't care. She desperately needed Stiles to open up to her. She needed _something._

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat and shrugged. He wanted to wallow in his self-pity without being bombarded with questions about his past.

"It doesn't really matter. I mean, it's over now."

_Wrong_. It wasn't over. None of it was over and they both knew it.

"Look who's lying now," Lydia scoffed. "Come on Stiles, talk to me."

If possible, Stiles' grip on the steering wheel tightened even more. It was surprising the stupid thing didn't break off the freaken car.

"Lydia drop it," Stiles growled.

Had he threatened anyone but her they would have backed away in fear but Lydia was different. The banshee had had her fair share of teen wolves with anger problems and Stiles was no exception.

"No. Stiles, what happen to you? We used to be so honest with each other. Now I can barely get you to even talk to me." Lydia explained desperately. "Please talk to me."

Stiles clenched his eyes shut and breathed through his nose. He could smell the anger and frustration radiating off Lydia but he couldn't do it. He couldn't talk to her. Not about this. Not about the nogitsune.

"I can't Lydia," he muttered. Why couldn't she just drop it? Why couldn't she just let him have one fucking thing for himself?

If he told someone about the horrible things he remembered about the nogitsune, then it became real. Every death, every spill of innocent blood, it all became real once he acknowledged it.

"Well I think you're a coward!" Lydia yelled, her patience now running thin.

"You think you're the only one who went through hell? I was there too, Stiles. I felt every death too but I'm not shutting everyone out. I'm still living."

She always had to be the strong one. Hell, she was attacked by a freaken alpha and kidnapped by both a psychotic English teacher _and_ a nogitsune and she still acted like the strong one.

Why couldn't someone else be the strong one?

Stiles didn't say anything and Lydia wanted to cry. Maybe this was karma. Maybe this was the universe telling Lydia that she would never be forgiven for letting Stiles get bit.

"We're here," Stiles whispered when they finally pulled into Lydia's driveway. He wanted to say something, anything really but the words never formed.

Without saying a word, Lydia sprinted out of the car, not even bothering with the rain that was now starting to pour. All she cared about was getting away from Stiles. If she stayed with him, she'd start to cry.

When Lydia reached the front porch she turned back to look at Stiles, hoping against hope that he was somehow there. _One last time._

But his jeep was gone and there was no trace of the boy who once faced an Alpha for her.

"Typical," Lydia mumbled.

It rained the whole day. The sun never came out, never gave Beacon Hills the fresh break it desperately needed.

Lydia sat by herself on the couch, watching reruns of Doctor Who and drinking tea the entire day. She didn't bother with putting makeup on or changing into something nice. No one was going to visit her anyway.

Looking around the room, Lydia sighed. "Oh, how times have changed," she said aloud.

Three years ago Saturday nights meant parties and boys. Now, they consisted of usually running from the latest town villain and trying to catch up on math homework.

If she was being honest with herself, she was a bit lonely. Like, really lonely and Lydia didn't know how to feel about that quite yet. On some level, she knew it was healthy to be alone, to be independent, but on another she felt like a complete loser. She was Lydia freaken Martin and she was spending her Saturday night all by her lonesome self.

Suddenly, Lydia heard a knock on the door and jumped. "Who the hell could that be?" she muttered wearily as she slowly got off the couch and grabbed the nearest weapon she could find (a bat, of course).

As she approached the door, Lydia thought of all the possibilities of who it could be. It could be Kira, surprising her with another 'Super Saturday Sleepover'. It could be Scott, checking up on her as usual. It could even be a supernatural serial killer coming to eat her bones.

It never even crossed her mind that is could Stiles. She didn't even think it was possible, considering the fight they had just had that morning.

But it was Stiles. It was a soaking wet Stiles Stilinski standing at her doorstep, looking as equally depressed and determined as ever.

"Stiles?" she whispered breathlessly. Damn, he looked hot in the rain. His shirt was literally clinging to his chest and his pants laid dangerously low on his hips. Lydia could actually count the small droplets of water that kissed his eyelashes.

"We need to talk," he whispered, looking at her in desperation.

Lydia nodded helplessly. Talk. As in something they hadn't really done in weeks.

"Okay," she replied quietly, opening the door enough to let him in.

Stiles walked straight into the house and began to pace. His hands were shaking and his eyes darted around the room as if he was expecting someone to come out from the shadows.

Lydia stared, dumfounded. What the hell was going on? "Stiles-"

"I need to tell you something and I need you to listen, okay?" Stiles said, cutting her off and staring sharply at the floor.

Lydia silently agreed and bit her lip.

"Imagine watching everything you love burn right in front of you," Stiles said, his voice nervous. "You can literally sense everything but you can't do a damn thing about it. You kick and you scream and you throw a tantrum but none of it matters. You still end up killing everyone. You still end up feeling the blood your hands every time someone dies and you still feel the pain radiating off your friend as you stab him with a sword."

Stiles nearly choked on his words and closed his eyes. His breathing was becoming short and rapid and he could feel the panic attack coming but he didn't stop talking.

He had to get this out. He had to tell Lydia or he'd lose her.

"You feel sick and you want to cry. You want to cry because it isn't right. You aren't supposed to be this way. You aren't supposed to be trapped like an animal, watching everything fall apart," he cried, looking at Lydia in despair.

"I just wanted to die. I wanted Scott or Derek or maybe even you to take mercy on me and just kill me. I deserved it. I deserved to die."

And that was where Lydia couldn't handle it anymore. Softly, she grabbed Stiles face and pulled him down to look at her. His eyes were filled with unfallen tears and Lydia knew hers were as well.

"You do not deserve to die. The only people that deserve to leave this world are the evil ones like Peter and Gerard and the Nogitsune. You are not them, Stiles. You're a good person" she told him urgently as her hands cradled his face.

Stiles whimpered and looked at Lydia sadly. "I'm a monster, Lydia. All of those people I killed, t-they w-were innocent."

Lydia shook her head pulled Stiles close so their foreheads were touching. "You are not a monster. You're Stiles, my Stiles and I love you," she whispered.

Stiles froze in Lydia's arms and pulled away to look at her seriously. "You love me? After everything, you love me?"

All Lydia could do was nod. She hadn't planned on telling Stiles this way but she was glad she did. The truth was, she loved Stiles more than she loved life itself. He was her everything, her best friend, her anchor. He was her soul mate.

And then Stiles kissed her and time stopped.

The world that spun on its axis so quickly, stopped moving and all that mattered was the feeling of Stiles' lips on hers.

Skillfully, Lydia wrapped her arms around Stiles' neck and crushed his body onto hers. Stiles' chest was hot like a furnace and she reveled in it. She needed him.

As Stiles slowly slipped his tongue into her mouth, Lydia gasped. She was kissing Stiles Stilinski. She was kissing Stiles freaken Stilinski and it was wonderful.

Stiles moaned into the kiss and Lydia's body went into a frenzy. She hungrily sucked Stiles' tongue into her mouth and tasted him.

With hands suddenly so graceful, Stiles groped Lydia's ass, squeezing at the plump skin and pulling her impossibly closer.

Lydia groaned at the contact and cocked her head to the side to look at Stiles. "Bedroom?" she asked, pulling her hands down Stiles' soaked shirt and reveling in the feel of his tense muscles.

Stiles' eyes widened in shock for a moment and then immediately into lust. "God yes," he croaked as he urgently grabbed for Lydia's thighs and hefted her up onto his waist.

Lydia giggled and wrapped her legs around Stiles' body. She was literally climbing him like a tree.

"God bless werewolf strength," Stiles muttered as he quickly ran up the stairs with Lydia in his arms.

Leaning up to suck at Stiles' neck, Lydia smiled. "So many new positions we can try…"

Without another word, Lydia was on her bed, watching as a now shirtless Stiles Stilinski undressed her slowly.

"I love your body," he muttered at the end of her bed as he kissed the side of her ankle.

"I love your smile," he hummed as he made his way up Lydia's waist, removing her clothes slowly.

"I love your heart," he grinned, kissing her chest and marking her skin with sinful love bites.

"And I love you," he finally said as he reached her abused lips and kissed her with passion. "I love you so much Lydia Martin."

Tears filled Lydia's eyes as she met Stiles' kiss. She had missed him so much. "I love you, too."

For the first time in a long time, Stiles woke up feeling happy. His bones no longer felt like they were about to snap into a million pieces and his body felt lighter.

Being with Lydia was the best thing he had ever done in his life. Seriously, nothing could compare to the feeling of being inside Lydia Martin and hearing her claim her love. Nothing.

He hadn't planned on the night going that way. He hadn't planned on sleeping with her.

All he had wanted to do was talk to her, to apologize for being such a dick and tell her he still needed her, still loved her.

Had he known she felt the same way, he would have done things way differently.

From her bathroom, Stiles could hear Lydia in the shower, singing terribly off key. Lydia Martin was not a singer ladies and gentlemen.

Stiles laughed. Even as she sounded like a dying giraffe, Lydia was still adorable. He was even about to join her in the shower when he heard her phone start to buzz on the night stand.

Quickly, Stiles walked towards the phone, checking to make sure it wasn't Scott or someone texting about an emergency of some kind.

But it was from Scott and what Stiles saw made his stomach turn.

_From Scott:_

_Lydia. We have to find some way to help Stiles. I can't handle the guilt anymore. If you and I hadn't decided to turn him, he wouldn't be this way._

Stiles was frozen. Lydia let Scott turn him? After everything, Lydia was the one that agreed to ruin Stiles' life?

"Stiles? Are you okay?" Lydia suddenly asked in concern from behind him.

All he could see was red. Lydia had betrayed him, too. All of his friends had betrayed him. "Why didn't you tell me?" Stiles whispered.

Lydia burrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean? What didn't I tell you, Stiles?"

She wasn't better than any of them. In fact, Lydia was worse. She lied to him. She led him to believe that she had no part in all of this. "Why didn't you tell me that you let Scott turn me?!"

Realization dawned on Lydia immediately and she began to panic. "Stiles, let me explain-"

"You let me think that this was all Scott's fault. You let me think that you had no choice in this!" Stiles screamed.

"No, no, no. You don't get it. Scott and I, we made the decision together. We had to do it to save you!" Lydia said urgently as she tried to grab Stiles' hand.

Stiles pulled out of her grasp and groaned. "Don't you get it?! Scott wouldn't have turned me if you hadn't asked him to! He knew how I felt about all of this! I told him that night after my MRI that I didn't want to be a werewolf!"

Lydia's face was covered in tears. "We did it to save you," she whispered weakly.

In anger, Stiles grabbed the nearest thing he could find and chucked it at the wall. He watched, mesmerized for a moment as the glass from a picture frame shattered into a million pieces.

"You ruined my life. You took the only choice that I had and stole it from me. I will never forgive you for this," Stiles said numbly as he stomped down the stairs and out of the house.

Once Stiles had driven away, Lydia began to cry.

This was all her fault.

She had ruined everything before anything had really began between the two of them.

Stiles' words rang in her mind the entire day. "I will never forgive you for this."

* * *

_**Holy cow?! A lot happens in this chapter. I probably should have split it up but oh well. It took a long time to write so I hope most of you guys think it's okay.**_

_**To all the amazing reviews: I love you guys. I don't know you but I love you. You give me strength to continue this story when my mind is mush! Please don't give up it! I swear it's gonna get really good.**_

_**Please review, message or even communicate with me telepathically. I would love to hear what you guys think. **_

_**Coming soon…. **_

_**Chapter 7: Misery Needs Company**_


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